The History of Richard Raynal, SolitaryBenson, Robert Hugh
History
The History of Richard Raynal, Solitary
Benson, Robert Hugh
Great Britain -- History -- Henry VI, 1422-1461 -- Fiction; Hermits -- Fiction; Historical fiction
It was a quiet room, and I will describe it to you now, although I saw
little of it at that time.
* * * * *
In the centre, with its head against the wall, stood a tall bed, with a
canopy over it, and four posts of twisted wood, carved very cunningly
with little shields that bore the instruments of our Saviour's passion.
On the tapestry beneath the canopy, above the pillow, were the arms of
the King, wrought in blue and red and gold. The hangings on the walls
were all of a dark blue, wrought with devices of all kinds, and they
were hanged from a ledge of wood beneath the ceiling such as I have
never seen before or since. The ceiling was of painted wood, divided
into deep squares, and in the centre of each was a coat. The floor was
all over rushes, the cleanest and the most fragrant that I have ever
smelled. I think that there must have been herbs and bay leaves mixed
with them.
I saw all this afterwards, for when I came in the curtains were all
drawn against the windows, save against one that let in the cool air
from the river and a little pale light of morning, and two candles
burned on a table beside the bed. The room was very dark, but I could
see that a dozen persons stood against the walls, and one by every door.
But I had no eyes for them, and went quickly across the rushes, and as I
came round the foot of the bed, I heard my name whispered again, and the
King stood up from where he had been kneeling.
I have already described to you his appearance at that time, so I will
say no more here than that he was in all his clothes which were a little
disordered, and that his head was bare. He had been weeping, too, for
his eyes were red and swollen, and his lips shook as he put out his
hand. But he could not speak.
I kneeled down and kissed his hand quickly and stood up immediately.
Master Richard who was lying on his left side, turned away from me, so
that I could not see his face, but I knew he was not yet dead, else he
would have been laid upon his back, but he was as still as death. His
head was all in a bandage, except on this side where his long hair hung
across his cheek, and his bare arm lay across the rich coverlet, brown
to the elbow with his digging, and white as milk at the shoulder.
When I saw that I kneeled down too, and hid my face in my hands, and
although I felt the King lay his fingers on my shoulder I could not look
up. But it was not all for sorrow that I wept; I was thanking God
Almighty who permitted me to see Master Richard alive once more.
I do not know how long it was before I looked up, but all the folks
were gone from the room save the King, and Master Blytchett, the
physician, who sat on the other side of the bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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